Mug Shot
by Unknown-Bliss
Summary: Ianto always wondered about Owen's outrageously dynamic coffee mugs... Owen muses about the unlikely importance of these mugs.


**Well, it's been a while since I've written anything Torchwood. I've been dabbling in other fandoms, but I got the season 2 DVD of Torchwood and two of the spin-off novels for Christmas, so I feel over inspired to write something. This idea has been in my head since chapter 7 or so of The List, but unlike in that story, this doesn't have much humor, if any. It is not necessary to read The List, but it explains the two mugs I gave Owen in that fic.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood.**

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Late nights at Torchwood… That was a common occurrence, especially lately. Ianto sighed, waiting by the coffee machine. This had to be the tenth pot he'd made today.

Carefully, the Welshman balanced the mugs on his tray, delivering them one by one to his coworkers. He stopped at Owen's desk, shaking his head. The man was slumped on his desk, snoring. He'd knocked over his #1 Alien Hunter mug, and a small amount of coffee had spilled onto the desk. Ianto set down the tray, heading back to fetch a towel.

He returned, wiping up the mess, careful not to wake the medic. Although he and Owen had often had rough patches, Ianto felt the other man deserved some rest. They all did. Ianto didn't feel like being mean-spirited tonight. He placed the blue mug on his tray, placing the pink #1 Mom mug in its place, just in case Owen woke up wanting some fresh coffee.

Ianto always wondered about those mugs. They were the strangest he'd seen, and he was curious about how Owen had come across them. He shrugged, going to clean the empty mugs.

Owen snorted, his eyes snapping open. He shook his head, trying to clear it from sleep. He swatted away the paper that had stuck to his face and wiped away the drool from the corner of his mouth. He noticed the steaming coffee that had replaced his finished one. Grateful for Ianto's efficiency, Owen took a long gulp of the scalding liquid.

Owen set down the mug. He rested his chin on his desk, staring at the bright purple lettering. He still remembered vividly the day he'd found this oddity of a mug…

He was young, not even in his teens. It was his mother's birthday, and young Owen wanted to get her something perfect as a gift. But what?

"Hey, kid!" an American voice pulled Owen from his thoughts. A man was sitting on the pavement. He had several cardboard boxes set up with a bunch of useless crap displayed on them. Owen pointed to himself, unsure who the man was addressing (thought he _was_ the only one there). "Yeah, you!"

Not knowing any better, the young boy walked up to the man and his various "wares." His eyes wide with fascination, Owen looked over the strange man's items. Something blaringly pink caught his eye. It was a coffee mug with the words #1 Mom painted onto it.

"It's perfect!" Owen squealed, grabbing the mug. "How much?"

"How much you got?" the man asked.

Owen rooted through his pockets, pulling out a crumpled 5 pound note.

"That'll do," the man said, grabbing the money from Owen's hands.

The boy smiled brightly, leaving the shady man. He ran home, excited to give his mother his present.

"Mum! Mum!" Owen called, bursting into his home.

"What?" Mrs. Harper groaned from the sofa.

"Mum! I got you a present for your birthday!" Owen ran to the woman, shoving the obnoxiously painted mug into her hands. She glared at him, then at the mug, then at him again.

"I hate pink," she grumbled, pushing the present back into her son's arms.

Owen's eyes welled with tears and he shot to his room, not wanting his mother to see him crying. He wrapped the mug up in a towel, tossing it under his bed. He was going to forget about it, he decided, sobbing into his pillow.

He did. Not until he left did Owen ever see that mug again. He opened up the suitcase his mother had shoved all his worldly possessions into. He found an old dusty towel-wrapped item buried in with his shit. Curious, Owen opened it to find the old pink mug. He regarded it indifferently.

"I could use this…" _Maybe after a good washing, _he thought, remembering the less than reassuring circumstances he'd found it. Somehow, it lasted this long…

The medic rubbed his eyes wearily, trying to get some work done. He let his eyes wander. Owen's gaze was drawn to Ianto cleaning his other bizarre mug. The story for that was somewhat shorter than the first…

Owen was embarrassed when Katie had found out about his secret obsession with Men in Black and Star Trek.

"Someone likes aliens," she teased.

"No," Owen denied.

"Uh huh. Come on, Owen. It's nothing to be ashamed of!"

"Yes, I do believe it is. Have you seen some of the other fans?" Owen whined.

"Ha!" Katie cried, hugging the doctor. "You just admitted you were a fan!"

"Did not," he replied, playfully shoving the woman off of him.

"Then I guess you don't want your present!" Katie shrugged, walking off temptingly.

"Present? Is there an occasion?"

"Do I need and occasion to give my favorite man a gift?"

"Yes," Owen said. "Otherwise, I'm afraid it might kill me!"

"Har, har, har," Katie said, mock-glaring at him. She ran into the kitchen, and Owen could hear her searching.

She returned a few minutes later, holding an electric blue mug. The words #1 Alien Hunter were painted on in bright yellow.

Owen accepted the mug. "Where the hell did you get this?" he asked incredulously.

"Internet," she informed him simply.

"I love you, you know that?" Owen laughed.

"Of course!"

"I'll use it every day."

One month later, Katie died due to and alien in her brain.

Owen continued to use the mug. In her memory…

Owen sighed. He really should get to work. He took another gulp of coffee, trying to focus on his drool-covered paperwork.

The doctor groaned once more. There was no way he was getting anything done in his half asleep state.

To his relief, Jack's voice filled the Hub. "Everyone, go home! Get some sleep! That means you too, Ianto!"

Owen gathered his things. Paperwork could wait until tomorrow. He took one last drink, emptying his mug. He knew that even with all the caffeine in his system, he would fall asleep immediately. Owen was the first one to exit the Hub, leaving the empty pink mug on his desk.

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How was it? I've been in a very Owen mood lately. I hope you liked it. It was a bit different that what I usually write, huh?

**Anyways, please review!**


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